


Silver Forks and Twilight Werewolves

by Lacrow



Series: Forgers' First Halloween [1]
Category: SPY x FAMILY (Manga)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor, Halloween, Misunderstandings, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:35:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26748868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lacrow/pseuds/Lacrow
Summary: She wasn't asking for much. Just a little time to spend with papa was all she wanted...so why then did Anya find herself the only thing standing between him and a lifetime of belly rubs and back scratches?
Relationships: Damian Desmond/Anya Forger, Loid Forger | Twilight/Yor Briar Forger | Thorn Princess
Series: Forgers' First Halloween [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947634
Comments: 22
Kudos: 97
Collections: Forger Spookfest





	Silver Forks and Twilight Werewolves

Papa'd had a long weekend.

Anya hadn't seen him much the past few days. From the moment she left for school Friday morning, he had been in a hurry to get to work. Mama assumed something had come up at the clinic (mostly because papa had told her as much), but Anya knew it was really his boss lady making him go on another mission. She merely shrugged before climbing onto the bus and assumed he'd be home for dinner, though found out later that wouldn't be the case. He ended up getting home after she had fallen asleep; passed out on the couch with her mouth wide open, Anya waited up as long as she could for him. At least he was the one who carried her off to bed. Mama had told her as much the following morning, since papa wasn't around to relay the information himself. Another morning. Another mission.

And another. Three missions, back-to-back, had kept her from seeing her papa all weekend. From the moment he woke up (which was early) to when he got home late at night, Anya was always asleep when he was home. Mama assured her that he was just very busy, which she knew; it's just that Anya worried that papa might be getting all pooped out again. His boss lady seemed nice, but she had a bad habit of throwing more secret missions at him on his days off. She supposed that was all part of being the greatest spy in the world, but she wanted to spend some time with him, too.

At least he was getting home at a reasonable time that Sunday afternoon. Anya peeked her head from out behind the curtains after Bond suddenly perked for no reason. His head popped up and he looked towards the door, a sure sign that papa was on his way. Anya couldn't see him in the street, which must have meant he was in the building. Sure enough, a moment later and the familiar jingle of keys came from the other side of the door. Anya's face lit up as the door opened. She made a mad dash to go see her papa for the first time in days, threw her arms out big and wide to hug is leg, and-

-Paused.

Anya looked up at her papa and blinked.

He looked tired, but then again he always looked tired. The rest of him was about the same as usual, too; suit and tie, hat, gloves, suitcase. The only thing different about him was his face. Papa looked...scruffy, like Scruffy. Anya blinked again, rubbed her eyes, and refocused, as if the hair that lined his cheeks and jaw would suddenly disappear like a bad dream. That didn't end up being the case. Papa sighed as he shed his hat and coat, but not before offering his daughter a tired hello. Anya said nothing back. All she did was stand there and stare. She'd _never_ seen her papa like this before.

"Loid, you're home!" mama's voice called out from the hallway. Anya looked over her shoulder to find Yor walking up towards them. "How was work?"

"Busy," Loid shook his head. He dropped his suitcase by the coat rack and left it there; he'd mess with it later. "I'll get to work on dinner after I take a shower."

"There's no need, I was planning on calling out for delivery," Yor revealed. "I figured you'd be out late again, so I was just waiting until you got home."

Loid sighed in relief. "That sounds like a wonderful idea, thank you." No need to cook and no Yor Forger originals, either. A true blessing.

Yor smiled at the realization that she'd made the right call. She continued to watch her husband as he fiddled with his gloves, and as the seconds ticked by her smile was soon accompanied by a poorly stifled giggle. Loid tilted his head and looked up at her and his daughter. The latter was still awestruck, while the former made no effort to hide her obvious amusement at something.

"Yes?" Loid blinked. Had he done something funny?

"Oh, nothing," Yor teased. She covered her mouth to hide her smile.

Loid raised a brow. Now he really wanted to know. "Was it something I said?"

"No," Yor shook her head. "It's just that I've never seen you with this much stubble before."

Loid cringed. He suddenly became very aware of his own hygiene. With a reluctant scratch of his scruff, Loid confirmed his shaving situation firsthand. He shook his head and sighed as his wife giggled some more at the display; he hadn't had much time to get ready in the morning the past few days. That included trimming his whiskers, a routine he practiced almost religiously every day. The more he felt it himself, the more Loid shook his head. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a beard, or at least one that wasn't part of a disguise he threw together, anyway.

"You're turning into quite the wolf-man, Loid! And so close to Halloween, too!" Yor teased some more. Her smile grew even bigger.

At first, Loid sighed. Upon taking a second look at his wife's amusement, however, he relented. "Yes, I suppose I am."

It was at that point Anya suddenly came back to life. Her frozen self de-thawed on a dime, and she looked up at her papa incredulously. She was too hung up on what her mama and papa had just said to notice or care about the soft looks on either of their faces; the blatant admission of something so mind-bendingly horrific that her little body failed to contain the sheer terror that swept up her spine. She couldn't believe it. She _refused_ to believe it. But as her parents' words slowly sunk in, it became apparent to the little girl that she could deny it no longer.

Papa had caught lycan...lycanthrow... _werewolf disease_ from one of his missions!

That explained it! Somewhere along the weekend he'd become infected, and now he was starting to sprout fur all over his body like Bond! Anya's jaw dropped. She looked over to her otherwise faithful hound and found him sniffing her papa up and down. _Double confirmed;_ clearly Bond was welcoming papa into the league of doggies! Anya shuddered and took several steps back. No, no, _no!_ Papa _couldn't_ be a werewolf! She already had a dog, she didn't need _two._ Papa was papa and mama was mama. Without one or the other, her family just wouldn't be complete anymore! A million different things all ran through her head, and nearly half of them carried with them the image of her having to take a hairy papa out on walks to go poop. A more frightening idea, there was not.

Neither Loid nor Yor noticed her internal dilemma. They eventually went their separate ways; Yor to the kitchen to grab plates for dinner, and Loid to the bathroom to go shower. They left their daughter there alone in her silent stupor. Anya continued to stare at the spot where papa had just been, while Bond came up to inquisitively lick her face. The smallest Forger devoted a bit more time to panicking before slowly reeling herself back in. Terror eventually gave way to trepidation, trepidation to realization, and finally realization to determination. Anya knew what she had to do.

"Bond, we've gotta cure papa!" Anya looked to her pet. The latter titled his head, while the former steeled her gaze. "We can't let him turn into a doggie person!"

* * *

Becky blinked.

At first she'd been staring at her lunch the entire time Anya had been talking, neither really listening nor ignoring her friend. For all intents and purposes it was just another day at school, and as such she'd been going through the motions of their typical routine; go to class, argue with stupid Damian, go to another class, then reconvene in the cafeteria. Cut, rinse, repeat. The two of them even sat down at their usual spots and ate their usual foods. Becky had brought food from home, courtesy of her family's personal chef, while Anya had settled for an omelet.

There hadn't been much time for eating, though. Becky took maybe one or two bites of her chicken cordon bleu before suddenly stopping mid-forkful. She turned to Anya as her friend's explanation of the day before suddenly sank in. Becky tilted her head and considered for a moment the implication presented before her. Anya's papa was turning into a werewolf? At first, she didn't believe it; her own father had hair on his face, and that didn't make him a werewolf. As Anya explained her papa's own admission however, Becky's eyes suddenly became wide.

"So what you're saying is..." the gears in little girl's head slowly started to turn. "...that your hot dad, is now a hot _werewolf?"_

Anya's flat stare did her enervation no justice. "Becky, I need help. I don't want a werewolf for a papa! What if he catches fleas or something?!"

"Just give him a flea bath," Becky replied nonchalantly. It worked out well enough for her dog at least, though Anya didn't seem to find that advice very helpful.

"If papa becomes a dog-person, he won't be able to do stuff, like-" Go on missions. Save the free world. Fall in love with mama. "-take me out on walks, or go to the park."

"You could take _him_ out for walks, though!" Becky smiled. It quickly fell off her face when she noticed Anya frown, though. "Okay, okay, I get it. But how are we gonna cure him?"

Anya's face became frazzled. She was hoping Becky might have been able to give her some ideas, but clearly that wasn't going to happen. The more Anya thought about it, the more she realized that most of her classmates probably wouldn't help, either. She and Becky weren't the most popular people in the first grade, and even if somebody did know how to cure werewolf disease, they more than likely wouldn't help her anyway. Asking a teacher was definitely out of the question, too; they'd want to know how papa became infected in the first place, which would mean she'd have to tell them all about his secret spy missions. No, she and Becky were on their own on this one...or at least, that's what she initially thought.

Her saving grace came in the form of a couple familiar snickers. Anya and Becky both straightened at the sound and spun around, finding Emile and Ewen there pointing at them for no apparent reason other than to get a rise out of them. It worked well enough on Becky; she gave them her typical scowl, which only grew when the boys' ring leader, Damian, suddenly came up behind them with his lunch tray. He replied with his own haughty smile before turning to walk away with entourage in tow, and Becky made her disgust plain with a click of her tongue. Anya, meanwhile, was silent.

Her eyes lit up.

Of course! Sy-on boy!

He was smart, he would know what to do! The little girl hopped to her feet and immediately ran to cut his exit off. Becky nearly caught whiplash as she followed her friend's b-line towards Damian, and the three boys froze mid-step as Anya skidded to a stop in front of them. The trio eyed her warily, not sure what to make of the girl's display.

"Sy-on boy, I need you!" Anya clenched her fists and stared up at her mark with determination in her eyes.

There was a pause. Emile and Ewen looked to their boss-man, only to find him suddenly go completely red. "W-w-what?!"

"Anya!" Becky interjected. "We're supposed to be figuring out a cure for your papa, not worrying about that thing of yours for Damian!"

More heads turned towards the display. Damian's eyes darted between his friends and Anya, and his mind reeled. "What are you two even talking about?!"

"My papa's turning into a werewolf," Anya explained with a frown. "I need to figure out how to cure him, but I don't even know the first place to start. Can you help me?"

The boys fell silent for a moment. Damian's flunkies shot each other incredulous looks before suddenly bursting into laughter. Anya tilted her head at their reactions, but none more so than Damian's. The red in his face abated slightly, and he simply closed his eyes and shook his with an exasperated sigh. Without saying another word the three of them turned to walk away again, but Anya wouldn't have it. She chased them down again, this time not even giving them the chance to take a single step. She lunged to grab hold of Damian, and the boy immediately froze in place.

He glanced at her over his shoulder, quickly enough to catch the frustrated tears that started to pepper Anya's eyes. "Please, Damian! You're my only hope!"

Damian's jaw dropped. Words failed him, even as Emile and Ewen had plenty of their own. "Get your hands off boss-man! Werewolves aren't even real, you dummy!"

"But it's true! He's all hairy now!" Anya's lips started to tremble, the sight of which only reignited the fluster in sy-on boy's face. "I love my papa! You have to help me change him back!"

Damian remained silent. He glanced at his boys, then at the interested stares surrounding him, before finally landing his eyes on Anya. She gave him a look that reminded him of the time she apologized for decking him in the face, and he clenched his teeth. Stupid girl. Stupid tears. Why couldn't she just leave him alone?! All he wanted was to eat his lunch, and now he couldn't even do that! Not when all he could see was her crying face. Even when he closed his eyes he could still see it, and he knew there was only one way to be rid of it. He growled in frustration at the thought of bending to her demands like this, but figured the others would at least compliment him on his exceptional kindness. Never mind the fact that his stomach fluttered at the mere thought of helping her.

"Ugh, fine!" Damian scowled. Emile and Ewen flinched. "You're hopeless! If you'd ever read a book in your life, you'd know that werewolves hate silver!"

Anya's tears abated for the moment. She stared at Damian in disbelief and blinked. He squirmed under her gaze. "Really? Silver?"

"Y-yes," Damian confirmed. His cheeks were on fire. "You have to shoot a werewolf in the heart with a silver bullet."

"But I don't wanna _kill_ my papa!" Anya's tears returned with a vengeance. "Is that really the only way?!"

Damian panicked. "Well, just poke him with something silver! I don't know, I'm not an expert!"

Sy-on boy wrested his shoulder away from the girl. Anya pulled her arms in close to her chest and stared at him, and at that point Damian couldn't handle looking at her any longer. He hid his face from her, Becky, and the others before marching off to salvage the rest of his lunch period. His fluster remained, although Emile and Ewen chalked that up to him simply being frustrated at having to explain something so (in their words) obvious to an uneducated person like Anya Forger. They stuck their tongue out at her before clamoring to go catch up with their leader. Anya remained statuesque.

"Those jerks!" Becky's voice came up from behind Anya. A soothing hand on her shoulder followed immediately after. "They were no help at all!"

Anya stayed silent for a moment. She watched Damian walk away, and once he'd made it a ways she wiped her tears. "...So I need to find something silver."

"Hm?" Becky frowned. She looked her friend over and found Anya a bit more confident than before. Her sad face was replaced with resolve.

Anya's head slowly started to swirl with possible ideas of how she was going to do this. Sy-on boy had given her all the information she needed. Now all she had to do was follow through with her plan, which at that point wasn't much of one; poke papa with something silver. Straightforward enough, although he more than likely wouldn't be happy if she tried. Anya would have to sneak up on him, but that was easier said than done. After all, papa was already the greatest spy in the world. She couldn't hide much of anything from him, and that was _before_ he'd been turned into a werewolf.

His senses would likely be heightened due to his disease.

Anya frowned. This was going to be difficult.

* * *

Loid turned his head this way and that. He stared at himself long and hard in the foggy mirror before shaking his head for what felt like the hundredth time.

Another mission, another morning without being able to shave. Handler was running him ragged these past few days, and he was starting to look the part. He knew he should have just done it the night before, but then again in his defense he didn't think WISE would throw a fourth mission at him almost immediately. Not only that, but shaving at night also just felt...wrong.

He shrugged. Tomorrow for sure he'd have enough time, since he had an important meeting at the clinic that couldn't be rescheduled. His cover job as a psychiatrist was equally as important as his duties as an agent, and Handler knew that better than anyone. There would be no new missions tomorrow, meaning he could play the part of regular civilian. Boring. Routine. All in all, relaxing.

Loid took one last look at himself before breaking away for good. Fresh out the shower, he gathered the new PJ's Yor had bought him and threw them on. Apparently she'd felt bad that he hadn't much time to relax lately and wanted to get him a comfier pair. To her credit, they certainly felt cozier than his previous sleep attire; the sweatpants felt like they were made of the softest wool, as did the shirt. He could definitely see himself drifting off to sleep quickly in them...were it not for the fact that he realized a bit too late that they probably should have been washed first.

They were itchy, or at least the shirt was.

It was a bit too tight on him. The sweatpants were loose enough to where he didn't feel it as much, but his torso wriggled from loose threads and harsh wool. Initially, it wasn't that big a deal. He dressed. He walked out. He made it a few steps down the hall, and that was when it hit him; everything was _**itchy**. _Loid tried his best not to draw attention to himself, especially as he entered the living room.

"Oh! You're wearing them!" Yor commented from the couch. Her legs were tucked in beneath her as she watched TV. "How do they fit?"

"...Very comfortably," he partially lied. Loid strained to force a smile and deftly tried to scratch himself under his wife's presence, to poor results.

Yor tilted her head, and right away Loid knew she could see through him. "Are they itchy?"

"Y-yes..." he admitted right away. There was no use trying to hide it. He'd rather admit it and be allowed to scratch away as much as he wanted.

"Oh dear, I knew I should have washed those first..." Yor admitted with a frown. She patted the space next to her. "...Come here."

Loid obeyed. He kinda had an idea of what Yor had in store for him as he walked up. She scooted over to allow him to room to sit down, and the moment his rear end planted firmly at the edge of the couch he could feel sharp nails sink into his back. Living with a woman had its benefits, Loid admitted to himself almost immediately. He closed his eyes and focused on her claws as they raked parts of him he could only ever dream of reaching. The shirt was really only part of it; something about a back scratch at the end of a long work week was...really just the best.

A tremulous sigh escaped Loid, but he was too lost in relief to care. Yor smirked and kept going, even as pink started to tint her face. It was all purely platonic, though there was something wholly domestic about the gesture. She couldn't help but to muse that this is what wives did for their husbands all the time. Maybe she should do it more often, seeing as it was her job to play Loid's wife to the best of her ability? Besides...he definitely seemed to be enjoying it. Yor's smile grew as Loid's head rolled forward. He shuddered as she went further south. Her cheeks warmed.

The sound of the door opening caused the couple to pause. Both Forgers looked up to find their daughter walking in. "Hi mama! Hi papa!"

"Hello, Anya," Loid answered for him and Yor. He straightened a bit as Bond came waddling through the hallway to greet Anya. "How was school today?"

"Good..." Anya replied with a poorly concealed frown. Papa had gotten even fuzzier. She glanced between him and mama. "...How come you two are sitting so close?"

Loid gave the little girl an annoyed sort of stare; she was always trying to make something out of nothing. Yor answered this time. "Loid was itchy, so I was helping him scratch it."

Anya stopped dead in her tracks. She gazed at her parents with big, open eyes, but managed to slowly nod in an effort to not make them suspicious. It seemed to work; papa rose to his feet and started to make his way towards the kitchen to make dinner. Mama meanwhile was content with just watching TV, leaving Anya there to silently sort through things with Bond.

Papa's transformation must have been progressing even faster! He was hairier now. Not only that, but mama was making things worse by treating him like he already _was_ a doggie! Absently, Anya scratched underneath Bond's maw is if to test her theory. Sure enough the pup started to shake and shiver like she imagined her papa had before she'd walked through the door, and the little girl's stomach churned. She needed to work fast. Otherwise, papa would start begging for back scratches like Bond (or _butt_ scratches if he was feeling especially needy. The horror!)

She needed to find something silver, and fast.

Without a word, Anya took off to survey the apartment for something she could use to stave off her father's werewolf disease. She couldn't make it obvious, though. Agents Penguinman and Chimera would be on full duty running interference this time; she dragged a doll in each hand around the apartment as she pretended to play spy as usual, while in actuality she was keeping her eyes peeled for the obvious glint of something she could use to stab her father with. Her room. The living room. The dining room. Despite her best efforts, every place came up empty.

"Did you do your homework?" papa's knowing voice called out from the kitchen. A sizzle of something on the stove immediately followed.

"No homework, tomorrow's field day," Anya lied without even looking up from what she was doing. Being the daughter of a spy had its obvious benefits.

Loid said nothing more on the matter, and both he and Anya resumed their individual tasks. The latter gave up soon after, though; she struck out around the same time papa announced it was time for dinner. She huffed in aggravation with herself as she dropped her toys and marched over to the dinner table. Yor appeared a moment later to set up the silverware, and Anya sat there in a funk as her mother came around with a smile on her face. She placed the small fork and knife in front of her daughter before leaving to go help her husband. Meanwhile, Anya stared.

She blinked, and realization suddenly hit her.

The _silverware_ , of course!

Anya picked up the knife in front of her, but immediately cringed. No, there was no way she could poke her papa with that (it was just a butter knife, but still...)

The fork. It had to be the fork. Anya's eyes got wide and she nodded to herself; she'd found her weapon of choice. At the same time, mama and papa returned with plates in their hands. Dinner was dropped off in front of Anya, and three of them had, for all intents and purposes, an enjoyable dinner together. With renewed vigor, Anya described her day. She of course left out the part about trying to find a way to cure papa, and instead made up something about her and Becky doing something fun at recess. Loid and Yor listened pleasantly. It was nice.

The food papa cooked that day was hearty. Anya and Yor couldn't finish it, but Loid devoured it all. Food was fuel for the body, and after the week he'd had his tank was nearly empty. When the final bite was put away, he gave a pained sort of sigh and leaned back in his chair; it was a lot. He knew it was, too, since Yor and Anya had long since finished their plates and waited patiently for him to finish. He closed his eyes and took a moment to gather himself before rising to his feet to gather the dishes, but he was quickly beaten to the punch by Yor.

He opened his eyes and found her smiling at him. "I'll clean up! You just go sit down and take it easy!"

There was no fight in him that day. Loid nodded obediently. He pushed his chair back and made his way to the living room while mama picked up. Anya continued to sit at the table for a moment and stare at her papa; he was worse off than she thought. He was taking orders from mama now, just like a doggie would! Her eyes narrowed as a determined fire lit behind them. The sooner she got this over with, the better. Anya pushed her chair back and scurried over to the kitchen. She pulled her mama's pant leg and asked if she could help put the dishes away.

Yor's eyes lit up; Anya had _never_ asked to help with cleanup before. She was growing up so fast! "Of course you may!"

Anya's job was to put up the dried dishes in their right places (mostly the utensils and pots and pans, since the plates were too high up for her to reach). Yor handed things off to Anya and she promptly stowed them, though when it came time for the silverware she made sure to secretly tuck a fork away in her dress. Together they knocked it out quickly, and before they knew it everything was clean. The Forger women exited the kitchen and made their way to the living room, only to find another first-time occurrence waiting for them on the couch; papa was out like a light.

The food must have hit him along with his exhaustion. He sat upright, head rolled to the side in the direction of the TV. Government sponsored television droned in the background, its hypnotic sound probably also having something to do with his inexplicable sleepiness. Yor took one look at him and beamed. She left Anya for a moment to disappear into her bedroom, only to return a moment later with a soft blanket in her hands. Mama crept over to papa and sprawled it over him gingerly. She whispered something, then came over to Anya and held a finger to her lips.

"I'm going to go take a bath," Yor explained. "You can watch cartoons, just please keep it down, okay? Papa's really tired today."

Anya's heart skipped. She realized right away that this was the moment she'd been waiting for; an opening to strike. "Okie dokie, mama!"

Yor smiled at her daughter. She spared Loid one last glance before exiting once more. Anya was finally given the chance to enact her plan, and she wasted no time. Once mama entered the bathroom, Anya waited for the tell-tale sound of water erupting from the shower. It came a minute later, and once she heard it Anya made her way carefully over towards papa. Bond had no idea what was going on, but he was along for the ride, too. He mimicked the little girl as she crept sneakily towards her lightly snoring papa. Anya pulled out her silver fork. She gulped.

It wasn't a bullet. It wouldn't kill her papa, so she'd try poking him in his heart like Damian said. The only problem was, she was in the first grade and didn't really know _where_ someone's heart was. It was in the chest, she knew that much...maybe just stick him in the middle of his chest? Anya shrugged to herself; seemed like a good idea as any. She quickly settled on her plan as she climbed atop the couch and positioned herself right in front of papa. Part of her couldn't help but to feel like it was all too easy. Normally he would have caught her already, and she frowned at the thought.

He was uncharacteristically tired.

Sleepy, lazy, like _Bond._

The werewolf must have been taking him over quickly. Anya steeled herself; she _had_ to save her papa. Mama was no help. If anything, she was only making things worse with the back scratches and blankets. No, Anya was the only one who could save papa and she took her mission seriously. She gave only a fleeting moment of hesitation before brandishing her improvised stake and raising it high in the air above her head. She stuck her tongue out and aimed directly for Loid's chest. She had to get the angle just right. She only had one shot at this. If she failed, it was all over!

 **"WITH THIS FORK I STAB THEE, WEREWOLF!"** Anya announced dramatically. The time was now!

She sunk it.

Immediately, two things happened.

The first was the guttural howl of a werewolf in pain as it echoed throughout the apartment, the sound of which immediately confirmed to Anya that her papa had indeed been afflicted with a horrible disease; she'd _never_ heard him make a sound like that before. His eyes shot wide open and they instantly zeroed in on her. That led into the second thing.

Papa shot up, and at the same time grabbed the fork from Anya. The little girl fell backwards onto the floor and nearly bumped her head on the coffee table, but luckily Bond broke most of her fall. She collapsed on the pooch and immediately looked up to find two frigid blue eyes staring down at her, the sight of which made the blood in her veins run cold. She was in _trouble._

"What. Are. You. **_Doing._** " Papa hissed in a half-sleep stupor. It wasn't really a _question,_ so much as a warning to Anya to choose her next words _very carefully._

Unfortunately she hadn't really thought that far ahead. She was never really one for the long game. Anya shakily grinned. "There was...uh, a mosquito on you. So I killed it-?"

 ** _"-Grounded,"_** Loid menaced. Anya gulped as papa's fingers curled around the fork, and the solid utensil slowly started to bend at his strength. _**"**_ **For the rest of the week, starting now!"**

"Y-yessir!" Anya quaked. Papa pointed to the hallway and she got the message clear enough; get out of his sight. Anya made a b-line for her room, while at the same time mama's head poked out of the bathroom.

She asked what on earth that sound was just now, but Anya knew better than to say anything. She just marched wide-eyed and silent until the door closed behind her, though even in the safety of her room she still found herself holding her breath. Her heart was beating fast. She was in a mountain of trouble. Papa would probably never trust her to fall asleep in her presence ever again, but...she did it. Papa was cured, or at least she seriously hoped he was. Anya didn't really know yet if the silver had worked or not; papa was still hairy when she left him, but maybe it just took time to work like medicine? Whether that was the case or not, Anya wouldn't be able to find out until tomorrow. Not until he walked her to the bus stop, or maybe even until he got back from work if he was _really_ mad.

Regardless, she had a feeling she wasn't going to be spending much time outside her room for a while. Waiting a moment before pressing her ear against the door, Anya listened to see if she could hear her papa. He was still growling, and her heart sank at the realization that Bond was still out there with him; it was probably fine though, seeing as how they were both of the canine persuasion (at least for now). Mama again asked what was wrong, and papa said something to her though Anya couldn't make out exactly what. She soon heard the door close again and the shower turn back on, and once that happened the rumblings coming from the living room eventually ceased. No more howling, no more growling. Papa-wolf had finally settled down.

The danger had passed, and Anya let out a huge sigh of relief.

She slumped to the floor and knew that all she could do now was wait and see.

* * *

To Anya's great relief, by the following day, things had gone back to normal...for the most part.

Papa was no longer hairy when she found him at the breakfast table. His face was clean and smooth like always, although mama seemed a bit disappointed that he didn't look like a werewolf anymore. Anya figured she probably wanted another doggie to scratch and pet, but Bond was the only furry companion they needed. Besides, papa certainly wasn't in any cuddly sort of mood that day...or even the following day, for that matter. At least not towards Anya, anyway. He was still pretty upset with her and she understood that; him and mama still walked her to the bus stop though and wished her a good day. Really the only way anyone could tell he was still thinking about the day before was when he narrowed his eyes right before waving goodbye. She got the hint.

Becky ended up taking the news that papa was no longer a werewolf about as hard as mama did. She voiced her clear frustration that she at least wanted to see a picture of a hairy Loid before he changed back, but Anya could only give her a halfhearted apology on the matter. Regardless, Becky was happy that Anya had her papa back, and the two girls agreed to keep an eye out for each other should the werewolf disease start spreading to the rest of Eden Academy. Anya also made sure to properly thank sy-on boy for his help in curing papa, though all he offered was a ground out _"You're welcome"_ before turning to walk away.

Upon her arrival home, papa was there to greet her like he always did. No new missions that day, although that also meant he was there to fully enforce her week-long grounding. There was no TV or play time until the weekend, but Anya was okay with that. Even during Loid's punishment study sessions, Anya smiled to herself knowing that she still had a papa who would get after her when she did something wrong, and not a slobbering pooch that she'd be forced to take out every day to go potty.

Thankfully papa had spared her the embarrassment of explaining what transpired to mama. Anya wasn't sure what he told Yor, but whatever it was at least didn't involve her stabbing him with cutlery. It wasn't until she took a peek into his thoughts that she realized he didn't even know he was infected in the first place; even then he had no idea why Anya had stabbed him in the chest, and quite frankly she'd have liked to keep it that way. Had he known that _she_ knew, then that might have given her superpowers away. Her secret identity was safe for another day.

All in all, everything had worked out for the best.

The crisis was averted. Deep down Anya liked to think that her papa would have been proud of her for curing his werewolf disease, because when push came to shove she could save the day just like he would. Papa might have been the best spy in the world, but even he needed some help from time to time. And should anything like this ever happen again in the future, whether that be an outbreak at Eden or mama catching secondhand werewolf from papa, Anya would know just what to do; grab something silver and poke them all like before.

Only, next time, maybe she wouldn't do it with a fork.

**Author's Note:**

> Edit: Forgot to mention that this series will continue all through out October. Several prompts were thrown my way from various readers and some of them I turned into fics. Keep an eye out in the coming weeks for more.


End file.
